


Untitled

by Lisztomaniaddict



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Crying, Emotional, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mild Self Harm, Sad, Self Harm, Song fic, like really mild but still trigger warning, reconnecting, stages of grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20121943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisztomaniaddict/pseuds/Lisztomaniaddict
Summary: His fists hit the body of the washing machine.“Fuck!”He was so angry. At himself. At the world. He didn’t want to do this anymore. Because how do you forget a person that made you forget what the world was like without them?He pressed his forehead against the cold metal as he tried to steady his breathing. It was his fault. He didn’t get to cry.‘You caused this.’ He told himself.‘You don’t get to cry.’-Josh knows it’s his fault. That he made Tyler leave. But a downward spiral sends him into a dark place. And he just wants to fix this.He needs to fix this.





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t very good. Or long. But I felt like posting it. It’s a collab I did on Instagram with the amazing and talented @blasphemousdez. We both took the same song and wrote a piece around it. Definitely go check hers out. It was really really good.  
\- based off of Emptiness Is A Closet Full Of Your Old Clothes by Wishing

Gone.

Tyler was gone.

But he was always there. It was like Josh’s subconscious wouldn’t let him even try to move on. Memories of Tyler haunting him. Josh would turn to get a second glance into a dark corner, his name on the tip of Josh’s tongue, but there was never anything there. Dreams of Tyler next to him, running his fingers through Josh’s hair, pressing kisses to his temples. He always did that when he couldn’t sleep. But it was always only a dream. And he would wake, swearing he could have felt fingernails on his hairline and callouses against his neck, and he would cry and sob and mutter.

“I hate this,”

A never ending mantra. An eternal internal monologue.

“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.”

Never ‘I hate you’. Because it wouldn’t be true. He didn’t hate Tyler. He could never. He loved Tyler more than life itself. That’s why it hurt so much. This was so much harder than he thought it would be.

~~~

He broke down in the laundry room once. Full blown tears, back pressed against the humming dryer. Didn’t even try to muffle it. He didn’t care if anyone else heard. Why would anyone else care? His hands were balled so tightly as he cried that his nails, as short as they were, were leaving imprints in his palms.

That stupid jacket.

It wasn’t even one Tyler had liked. That’s probably why it had gotten left at the apartment. And Josh hadn’t picked up the clothes on the floor in a while, which is probably why it had gone unnoticed for so long. No matter the chain of events, there he sat. Sobbing over a fucking jacket, the cotton filling his lungs and leaving only dryer-filtered dust.

His fists hit the body of the washing machine. The noise that echoed out was sharp, and metallic, and empty.

“Fuck!”

He was so angry. At himself. At the world. Tears burned divots into his face. He didn’t want to do this anymore. Because how do you forget a person that made you forget what the world was like without them? He pressed his forehead against the cold metal as he tried to steady his breathing. It was his fault. He didn’t get to cry. He just cried harder.

‘You caused this.’ He told himself. ‘You don’t get to cry.’

~~~

“Stay.” Tyler had whispered in Josh’s ear one night.

Burning hands and lips roaming freely, voices soft and full of affection.

“Stay.” He was warm. So warm that it would almost burn you if you hadn’t become accustomed to it. A small animal in a pot. The water just kept getting warmer. And Josh just kept getting used to it. Until it was to late. He knew this would never last, deep down. No one could love him like this forever. There was no way.

‘Wait till he sees you for real. Wait till he sees the inside. The thoughts, the flaws, the imperfections.’ The little voice in the back corner of his skull taunted.

‘Just wait. It’ll never last.’

“Stay.” Tyler whispered, his hands gripped at Josh’s hair and hips, holding him close.

“Stay.”

He couldn’t have said no even if he’d wanted to. No, not when the water was so nice. Josh held his breath. Tyler’s hands traveled, down, down, down. The water was so nice.

“Okay.”

He could feel Tyler’s hands against him, spreading heat down his chest, marking their path.

It had become his most frequent dream.

~~~

It was Josh’s fault. Tyler knew that. And he’d made sure Josh knew that. It was Josh’s fault. And if he could just let people in, talk about how he felt like a normal human being, to not be so scared of love, of vulnerability, like a normal fucking human being, they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

“Why do you keep pulling away from me?” He had yelled. “Why won’t you let me in? God, are you even listening to me?”

He had been. But he was trying so hard not to cry, he couldn’t get out an response. The apartment always felt smaller when they were fighting. And not in a good way. He’d thought that moving in together would be a good thing, but now he was second guessing himself.

“I’m just trying to be there! I’m your fucking boyfriend! I love you! I’m your fucking boyfriend.” His voice trailed off as he’d slid down against the wall, head in his hands. He knew he was fighting a loosing battle. “I’m- I’m your boyfriend. Why won’t you let me in?”

He looked up.

A plea.

A helpless plea.

He was asking for an answer he knew he’d never get.

“I’m sorry.” Josh had mumbled through his tears, eyes down, still standing where he had been when Tyler had gone off on him 30 minutes ago.

“I know.” He whispered through choked sobs. “I know.”

Josh could see how how tightly Tyler’s grip was on his hair. He just wanted to stop him from hurting himself. But he was afraid. When Tyler was angry, Josh was afraid. Josh standing there, silently yelling at himself. Tyler crying on the floor.

His most frequent nightmare.

~~~

The bargaining.

‘I’ll be better.’ He told himself. ‘I’ll work out more.’ ‘I’ll go to church more.’ ‘I’ll volunteer.’ ‘I’ll call my grandma.’ ‘I’ll. Be. Better.’ ‘Then he’ll love me again.’

Empty, empty promises.

When trying to be better didn’t work, he’d get worse. He started to punish himself. Tyler’s pained, disappointed looks were no longer there, so he had to make himself hurt somehow. He would run. For hours. Till he couldn’t anymore. The sting in his thighs and back had become second nature. The burn of his throat, the blisters on his heels, the sunburn on his shoulders. He deserved it.

Eating less, until it hurt and he would go to bed earlier so he wouldn’t have the temptation of satiating himself.

Eating more, until he was so full, he would spend 20 minutes on the frigid bathroom floor, getting rid of it all, shaking and shivering and swearing he could feel Tyler’s hands rubbing up and down his back.

This was his punishment. He deserved it. He couldn’t tell anyone. No. This may be his punishment, but only someone weak would complain about it. No one would care anyway. It was all his fault.

His fault.

~~~

It wasn’t that Josh hadn’t tried to move on. He had. Really. His friends tried to cheer him up. He was young, talented, and fairly attractive. They told him to get out there.

So he did.

Trying to fill the void at night. Covering the cold side of the bed with sweat, and arousal, and names he would forget only weeks later. Strings of one or two-night stands, and his boyfriend, girlfriend, or partner of the week. Nothing felt right.

Sure, it was distracting in the moment, but overall it was always empty. The encounters started melting together. He could have garnered the same feeling himself. It all felt worthless. After those hollow interactions and awkward moments where he’d moaned Tyler’s name, he stopped.

He’d come to the conclusion that he was just looking for Tyler at this point. That’s all he wanted. And it frustrated him to no end.

~~~

He didn’t want to play the victim. Not in the slightest. This was his fault. He’d caused this. He should have listened. Gotten help. But no.

‘You’ve brought this on all yourself.’ ‘You don’t get to complain.’

He was weak. He should be able to do this alone. He should put himself back together before ever even thinking of seeing Tyler again. He could do this himself. Make Tyler see that he was worth it. That he was worthy. Of him. Of existing. Of love.

‘This is your fault.’ The sharp little corner said. ‘Now fix it. Alone.’

He imagined Tyler in his apartment. Ripping old photos. Cursing Josh’s name. Erasing every memory. He had to fix this himself. Then Tyler would love him again.

~~~

Eventually it all stopped. The incessant self punishment. The tears. The dating, if you could even call fucking someone new you’d met twenty minutes ago “dating”. This wasn’t working. He was tired. He was scared. He was hurting. He was desperate.

He never thought he would end up here.

He wasn’t that kind of guy. To show up and an ex’s door step, months later. But he was desperate.

‘Don’t do this. This is your fault. You don’t get help. You don’t get that privilege.’

He stared at the door, and began to raise a shaking hand to the wood.

‘I need help.’ He told himself. ‘I need help.’

‘I need Tyler.’

~~~

“I can’t, Josh.”

His heart shattered. He knew this wouldn’t work. He knew it.

“I can’t do this again. I can’t keep pushing when I know you won’t listen to me.”

Josh pushed back tears.

‘It’s your fault. You don’t get to cry.’ The voice mocked.

Tyler took a deep breath.

“But, I want to help you. I miss you, Josh. I want to help you. So, I’m okay if you want to try and reconnect again? Try and be friends?”

Josh nodded without a second thought.

“But you have to let me in. I can’t do this again. I can’t put out all of me and get nothing back. I know that all of this isn’t solely your fault but,” Tyler sighed. “It hurts, Josh. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. God, I miss you. I’m just...”

“Just what, Josh?”

“I’m scared.” He whispered. “I’m scared that I’m going to let you in and you’re not gonna like what you see.”

Tyler’s expression softened.

“I know. I know it’s hard. I do. But you can’t keep shutting me out. You can’t get help like this.”

Tyler took his hand. Josh nearly broke down right there. God, it was so nice. Just this little bit of contact. He knew every crease and callus and scar by heart.

“I want you, Josh.” He squeezed gently. “But not like this. Promise me. You’ll start seeing someone. Or talk to me. Or someone. Please.”

Tyler’s expression wasn’t hopeful. Expectant maybe? Begging for an answer that he could work with. The answer he’d never gotten.

“Okay.”

Relief.

“Okay.”

Josh didn’t move for a moment, just feeling Tyler’s hand, Tyler’s warmth against his, before mustering up courage and wrapping his arms around Tyler. Luckily, the motion was reciprocated.

The walls broke down.

“I missed you, Josh.”

Josh fell apart, and would probably have hit the floor if not for Tyler holding him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cried. “I didn’t ever want to hurt you. I didn’t. You have to believe me.”

“Shh. I do. I believe you. It’s not okay. But I forgive you.”

Josh pulled away slightly to see tears rolling down a small smile on Tyler’s face. Josh could breathe again.

“We’re gonna try again, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get it right this time.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t want to give it a happy ending, but an optimistic one? I don’t know. Is people ask I might do a second part. Thanks for reading. :)


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